


Of Clouds in the Night Sky

by ImaShayne



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Artist Keith, College AU, Dancer Lance, Fluff, M/M, Photographer Keith, Vitiligo lance, pinup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 10:22:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaShayne/pseuds/ImaShayne
Summary: Lance has a rare skin condition, which he hides from all around him, but on a chance encounter with a photographer from the school newspaper he gets an opportunity to truly shine as himself. When Keith shows Lance how beautiful he thinks he is Lance falls hard. He comes to realize that there’s nothing quite as transformative as pinup.





	Of Clouds in the Night Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I wrote this as soon as the idea struck me, which I don't usually do, because I have a million Klance ideas at all times and there's simply not enough time in the day. But I really got hit by this idea, and I have MORE ideas around this, which I think means I'll be writing this again but.... slightly different? It might be a longer chapter fic? Might be parts? Might just be re-written with different points? I'm not at all sure yet. 
> 
> But I really like how this turned out so I'm posting it and moving on, but please believe this won't be the last time you read about Lance with Vitiligo.

“That’s a wrap!” Coran clapped his hands, voice reaching the entire stage crew, including Lance where he stood up on the bridge. Beneath him the dancers broke their poses, chests heaving and sweat glistening beneath the lights as rehearsal ended. From his vantage he could see the handful of journalists from the school newspaper gather up their things as well.

To his left one of the other spotlights went out, and Lance followed suit. He breathed a small sigh of relief as the air around him cooled without the heat of the 500 watt bulbs. As he made his way over to the lift, gantry shifting with each step, Hunk and Pidge joined him.

“-I can’t believe the university doesn’t replace any of this old ass equipment-” Pidge huffed, folding her arms as they descended. Lance rolled his eyes, this conversation again. He liked working with the old spotlights, after all it was the closest he’d ever get to them he figured.

“We should bring it up to this century ourselves.” Hunk stated in a matter of fact manner, glancing down at Lance as he fanned himself, burnt orange shirt dark with sweat, “how do you not die of heat stroke next to those lamps in that sweater?”

Ignoring how his own clothes stuck to him Lance grabbed the collar of his signature green jacket and tugged it. “Are you kidding? I’m so cool it radiates from me.” Pidge snorted as the lift jarred to a halt.

When they reached the bottom he waved the two of them off, “I’ll catch up with you guys later!”

He began to cleanup, putting props away and hanging up the haphazard pile of discarded costumes. Taking his sweet time.

“Thank you my boy, always such a help. Once you’ve finished, lock up.” After Coran handed him the keys he left. Lance scanned the deserted backstage area, dashed to the left wing of the stage and glanced out into the seats.

Finally alone.

In the quiet Lance could almost pretend, as he stepped out onto the stage from behind the heavy red curtain, that it was the hush before a ballet began. On poised limbs Lance settled in the middle of the darkened stage. He slipped his jacket off in one motion that shifted like fluid into the next and the next.

Lance began to hum as he danced, arms arching and swooping, legs spinning him before he leapt into the air.

It was the almost imperceptible sound of a camera clicking, shutter closing to capture a moment, and the flash, lighting up the empty audience seats, that broke Lance’s concentration. What should have been a perfect landing ended with him falling, knees skidding across the glossed wooden floor.

But he ignored the pain, head snapping around to find who was there, pounding of his heart the only sound he could hear.

Lance didn’t have to look hard, from the wings a kid with pitch hair that looked as if it was in need of a trim rushed towards him, a look of concern on his features. It wasn’t until he was closer that Lance recognized him. Kevin or Keegan or something like that. They’d had a few of their general classes together. A pretty boy who’d never given Lance the time of day.

He held out his hand, “are you al-”

“What are you doing here?” Lance snapped, face flushed as he knocked the offered hand away and stood on his own. He couldn’t meet the other’s gaze, hyper aware of how bare his arms were. Blue eyes flashed back and forth, trying to find where he’d dropped his sweater. There! Center stage.

“Not that I owe you an explanation but I’m taking pictures for the article.” He spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Lance tried not to lung for his jacket as he snatched it up, breathing a bit easier as he jammed his arms into the sleeves.

“Why did you take a picture of me?”

Smart guy didn’t have an answer for that one, by the way his mouth slammed shut.

“Well I don’t really care why, but you better delete it.”

The other scoffed. “Fuck no, you’re not my boss.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t ask to take my picture!”

Lance grabbed for the camera, but the other dodged away. Though he looked torn. Lance tried not to think about how cute he was as he bit his lip.

“Tell you what Lance-” That stopped him up short, this guy…. This  _ super cute _ popular guy remembered him? “This picture will go away if you stop by my place.”

“Wha-no? Why?”

It was the other guy’s turn to blush, but he didn’t answer Lance’s question. “You know the Gama Zeta house?” Lance could only nod. “Meet me there, Saturday, 10 am.” He turned and started out of the theater, and was halfway down the middle aisle when Lance fell out of shock.

“Hey wait what about the picture?”

“I’ll delete it when you show up!”

***

Lance’s alarm went off, but his eyes were already wide open. All night, no, all week he’d been wondering why in the hell that guy asked him over. After what he’d seen that afternoon…

His thoughts ran wild as he brushed his teeth.  _ What even possessed the guy to ask? The nerve.  _ His own jittered in anticipation as he blended the foundation across his cheeks. He donned his jacket to cover his arms and headed out the door.

Anxiety was like electricity through his veins as he walked the campus.

By the time he reached the fraternity he felt lightheaded. It didn’t help that as he knocked on the door he held his breath. A tall guy answered and Lance’s eyes widened as he looked up at the handsome man.

“I’m uh… I’m here for…” Lance realized he never got a name.

“Oh yeah Keith said you’d be coming by for him. His room is up the stairs, second door on the right.

Lance followed the directions, but his fist hovered, hesitating to knock. The door opened regardless.

“Hey Shiro have you- Oh hey Lance you’re early.”

Lance could feel the warmth in his cheeks, “yeah uh…”

“Come in,” Keith stepped aside and as Lance entered he tried not to be too impressed with the mullet’s setup.

“What do you want.”

“Wow okay, no pleasantries.” Keith crossed his arms, “I want you to model for me.”

Lance was speechless, something rarely seen. Not that Keith would know.

“Can I take that silence as a yes?” Keith asked, mouth turned up at the corner. Lance sputtered, turning his gaze away from that adorable expression.

“Why in the hell would I say yes to that? I told you I wanted the  _ one  _ picture you took of me  _ deleted.” _

Keith pulled in a deep slow breath, running his fingers back through his hair and  _ hell  _ if Lance didn’t want to do the same thing.

“I’ve wanted to ask you since that class with Iverson-”

“Wait, you’ve wanted a picture of me for that long?” Lance wasn’t quite following.

“Yes-No! I mean…. I’ve wanted to ask you  _ out. _ It wasn’t till I saw how fucking, Lance just breathtaking you were when you were dancing that I wanted to take your photo.”

For the second time that day, Lance was speechless. He wanted to call Keith a liar. To look around for the others who might be in on this prank.

The hopeful look that shone upon Keith’s features darkened with each second that passed.

But Lance had no idea how to reply, he searched for words, but the only ones that came to mind were “lets get this over with.” Before; “wait wait! I mean…. I don’t understand, like, at all. How you could be into me, and even less so about the, wanting a picture of me front but…. But sure to the date… and the photos…. So like, lets get this over with.” These sentiments rushed out of him before he could organize them.

“Slow down.” Keith chuckled, placing his hands on Lance’s shoulders. Keith began to slip the jacket down the other’s tensed shoulders. Though a part of him wished too, Lance didn’t stop him. It wasn’t until Keith’s hands slipped beneath Lance’s shirt that he did anything at all.

“Uh, what are you doing?” They were so close that Lance could feel the other’s breath hot against his lips.

“Getting you ready for the shoot.”

“Here I thought I was already-” His heart stuttered as the shirt lifted over his head, leaving him the barest he’d ever been around another, “ready.”

“Not for what I have planned.” Keith stated, tracing a part of lighter flesh upon Lance’s torso, hopping to the next pigmented discoloration, and the next, as if connecting stars to make a constellation. Until he reached Lance’s neck, pausing at his pulse, feeling how swift his heart beat.

“Make up?” Keith murmured.

Lance swallowed and nodded.

“It’s uh… it’s called vitiligo…” Lance answered, though Keith hadn’t asked. “It’s a skin condition….”

Keith nodded, taking a step back, leaving Lance feeling even more vulnerable than before.

“Go wash your face and take the rest of your clothes off.” He gestured towards his bathroom.

“No way!” Lance squeaked, covering his chest.

One eyebrow raised and a crooked smile graced Keith’s face. “Would you like my help again?”

The door slamming was his only answer as Lance stormed to the room Keith had pointed out.

When the door opened next Keith barely glanced up as he fiddled with his camera. Lance cleared his throat, unsure of what to do now.

“You can go and sit on my bed, I’ll pose you in a sec…”

Lance glanced between Keith and the neatly made bed.

“You sure do think you’re a smooth fucker huh?” Lance’s voice was tight, and he tried to will himself to calm.

“Yeah but only when I’m really into someone.” He shot a smirk up at Lance, eyebrow raising, “you’re gonna have to take the towel off.”

“I bet you say that to all t-the p-pretty…” his voice stuttered to a halt as Keith took all of him in.

“You’re beautiful.” He stood and pulled Lance’s hand out of the death grip it held on the towel. As the terry cloth fell Lance imagined how Keith’s lips would feel beneath his own. What would happen if, instead of sitting on the bed, Keith moving his limbs into a suggestive air, he grabbed the other boy and tumbled them both onto the blankets.

But then he tried not to think of that, because god forbid he have a damn  _ boner  _ while Keith was taking pictures of him.

“Take a deep breath Lance, hold that position for as long as you can.” He was on his knees, one hand between his legs, hiding his stiffening member, and one splayed back. He had no idea what sort of expression he was making, nor what he should be. But Keith didn’t say anything else as he stepped back, camera clicking away, each time from a different angle.

“Now hang your leg off the bed, but keep the other up and bent beneath you…” Keith walked around the bed, “straighten up, arch your back a bit…” click, “move your left hand to your hip…”click, “now to your shoulder.” Click.

Keith was behind Lance. “look back at me…perfect.” The last word was but a breath. Silence reigned and Lance grew sore with stiffness.

“Oh you can totally move now.”

He almost fell off the bed as he turned to find Keith sitting at his desk, camera already hooked up to his computer.

“Can I see?”

“Not yet, you can leave if you want but-“ Keith’s smile was bright as he looked at Lance again, before his eyes flicked back towards his screen, “I’d enjoy the company.”

Lance blinked before the flush that had never dissipated flared up. He nodded, though Keith wasn’t looking. “Yeah I’ll stay.” He got dressed, touching his face as he exited the bathroom. Of course he’d forgotten his makeup at home. The thought of leaving without any hiding his complexion had the anxiety that flirting had buried resurface. He needed a distraction. But talking with Keith seemed out of the question, he was so focused. Instead Lance began to wander the room. Everything was so tidy, each item had a place, from the boring physics books to the wicked looking knife. It all was a puzzle, like the boy himself.

Being as impatient as he was Lance quickly exhausted every diversion. With a sigh he fell onto the bed, satisfied that the covers mussed. He groaned, rolling onto his stomach, feet kicking up behind him.

Keith’s head fell back. “OMG Lance.”

“I’m bored! Are you done?”

“Ya know I said you could leave.”

“And you said you wanted company!” Lance was standing and didn’t remember doing so.

“Yeah before I knew you’d just be complaining the whole time.”

“I haven’t said a word! But okay whatever, I just wanted to see… I’m going.” Lance stomped over to the door, but a hand closed over his wrist and Keith spun him, leading him to the desk as he sat down he pulled Lance into his lap. Hushing his protests with a kiss. Lightning crackled down through his system but before he could deepen the exchange Keith was already pulling away.

“The edits aren’t done, but…” Keith turned the chair so that they could both look at the screen. What he saw stole Lance’s breath away.

Keith had changed the lighting of the photo to look like evening. But it wasn’t like nighttime around Lance, he’d made Lance the  _ night.  _ He had somehow made the lighter areas of pigmentation on Lance’s skin appear as clouds drifting through the sky. There was one across his right eye, and upon his hip. The one encompassing his shoulder looked as if it were being shaped by his own hand. The freckles that peppered his cheeks and back were brightened to look like stars and the blue of his eyes looked like deep pools.

“Woah.” He murmured, “Keith…. This is amazing.”

“You’re amazing Lance.”

“No way I don’t look like this!”

Keith’s arms tightened around him, “That’s how I see you.”


End file.
